


The Perfect Gift

by BunniesAndBooks



Series: The Christmas Calendar [23]
Category: Glee
Genre: Blow Jobs, Bondage, Gags, Intergluteal Sex, Kidnapping, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-25
Updated: 2014-12-25
Packaged: 2018-03-03 12:49:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,741
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2851343
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BunniesAndBooks/pseuds/BunniesAndBooks
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Day 23. Kurt/Karofsky<br/>Prompt: Karofsky has come out to the Hockey team, they are all cool with it and happy that he came out, they can still slushie the glee kids for being in Glee. Karofsky has had all I want for christmas stuck in his head, so when Azimio asks him what he wants for christmas he decides on Kurt, under his christmas tree.<br/>Azimio and the Hockey team kidnap Kurt from the mall, dress him in a costume. *bonus points for Christmas Fairy* stick him in a box. *would love to have Kurt point out he needs air holes or he will die in there* then gets wrapped up air holes kept clear. <br/>Kurt after the initial shock finds he is actually enjoying the whole thing. Must have sex under the Christmas tree in it somewhere. <br/>*Tinsel used to bind hands but no extreme bondage its Christmas.*</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Perfect Gift

Being woken up by invasive hands grasping him all over at three o'clock in the morning was nothing short of terrifying; their masked faces making him panic and scream behind the hand covering his mouth. Vaguely hearing how they mumbled around him Kurt tried to count how many they were, but soon lost count when he figured he'd do a much more useful job trying to break away from their strong holds. His limbs flailing – or trying to – as they carried him out of his room, out of his house, and into the awful awaiting van.

But that was two hours ago, and now that he was sitting among the dozen or so of rather familiar boys Kurt was far more annoyed and furious than afraid.

“What the _hell_ do you think you're up to?!” he screamed at the dark boy sitting before him on one of the locker rooms many wooden benches. “You can't just _kidnap_ someone out of their house, are you crazy?!”

“Oh, calm your tits Hummel!” Azimio shouted back, and Kurt humphed in return, staring angrily at the dark boy. “Good. Ya really think you'd come with if we just _asked_. Hell naw! You'd bitch 'n moan just like ya are right now! We just did what we had to do to get shit done.”

“And why, pray tell, did you feel the need to abduct me out of my home in the beginning?” Kurt demanded, not fathoming in the least why they'd felt the need to kidnap him in the first place.

“Ya know K said he's gay when ya left for that Dayton school?” Azimio asked him in return, continuing when Kurt only raised an impatient eyebrow. That was old news, he'd heard about that not even minutes after it happened when Mercedes had called him to gossip. “Yeah, right. Forgot there's still losers in that club still even though the queen freak left. But yeah, he came out, and like, no biggie, he's still cool and all. But now we've been tryna figure out what stuff he wants for Christmas. Ya know what he told us?” Kurt shook his head, Azimio's terrible language quickly making him develop a searing headache trying to deconstruct it into something understandable. “Nothin'. Absolutely nothin'. He just hummed that stupid Carey shit and totally blew us off! Good thing Rashad remembered that K used to watch ya a lot a few months back.”

“So what?” Kurt interrupted, thinking he might have got the gist of what Azimio was trying to say, but not sure in the least. His curiosity was undoubtedly peaked though. “You decided to kidnap because... what? Because Karofsky used to 'watch me' a few months ago? That's not just _crazy_ , that's simply _moronic_!”

“Oh shut your yap Hummel! And yeah, we're gonna get you dressed in this thing Lipoff scored us, and we're gonna wrap you up and give ya ass to K for Christmas.”

Kurt was dumbstruck, staring wonderously at the enormous jock. Were they actually serious? It sure sounded like it, but he could _never_ imagine...

“...You are _actually_ crazy aren't you?”

Before and around him the jocks all huffed, some of them even murmuring about 'getting a move on', something which the rest of them seemed to agree with. So, unceremoniously being grabbed and dragged to one of the empty parts of the locker room Kurt was told to get the costume in the bag on.

Only, when he finally _saw_ what this costume was, he was disgusted and horrified. Not that he had actually been planning on putting it on in the first place – because, _hello_ , there was no way he was going through with this idiotic scheme of theirs – but seeing this positively _awful_ thing in red and green with _fucking wings_ going with it... They truly managed to reach whole new levels of idiocy if they thought he would put that on voluntarily.

He wasn't afraid to tell them so either.

“There is absolutely _no fucking way_ I'm putting that thing on!” he bellowed at the huge jock towering before him, balling the costume up and throwing it at Azimio's irritating face. “You take me the hell home right now, or I'll fucking call the police!” He had reached the point of too fucking much a long time back, and was in no mood for their games anymore. Not that he'd ever been in the first place.

“Suck it up, will ya?!” Azimio shouted back at him, stalking forth and pressing the fabric back against his chest. “'N if ya won't put it on yourself we'll do it for ya. We don't give a fuck how gay it is, K's getting his gift!”

Huffing frustratedly Kurt considered his options quickly; on the one hand it was fighting them tooth and nail about this – but he had a feeling he was in a great disadvantage against the strong, athletic boys. On the other hand he could just surrender – ever so temporarily – and just get Karofsky to give him a ride home or something later. Finn had said something about the guy being far more agreeable in that past month, something Mercedes and Rachel hadn't disagreed with.

It was weird that the first time seeing each other since that awful meeting in Figgin's office the month prior would be under these circumstances.

“Fine,” he hissed angrily, snatching the god-awful cloth from Azimio's hands and sitting down dejectedly on the unforgiving bench. “You'll have to go though, there's no way I'm changing in front of you. Especially not if I'm forced into this disgrace.”

“That's cool,” Azimio surprisingly agreed, turning to walk away. “But don't even _think_ 'bout runnin',” he shouted as he disappeared out of Kurt's sight. “Nowhere for ya to run anyway.”

And sadly that was oh so true. The only exit was on the other side of the room, and there was no way Kurt could manage to stalk his way past twelve jocks. Twelve jocks whose only job here was to guard him from leaving.

Fuck.

Frustrated whimpers lodged in his throat Kurt stepped inside the atrocious garment, the polyester blend in it already itching uncomfortably against his skin. The red and green striped clothes were tight-fitting; the shirt stretching partway down his thighs and ending in horribly cut triangles. He looked like a damned male Tinkerbell who'd had someone throwing up Christmas on their clothes. The wings certainly didn't help with the picture. Nor did the hat with a bell attached to the end of it.

“You guys work with cruel and unusual punishments,” Kurt commented as he walked out from his corner of the locker room, his pajamas clenched in his hands. “Does anyone know which locker is Finn's? I need to keep these somewhere where they won't tear.”

“Not sure if Hudson's locker's the best place to put it,” one of the few unfamiliar jocks said, something which Kurt reluctantly agreed with, but it was the only option he was comfortable with. “It's this one,” he said, opening the locker for Kurt and letting him stuff the clothes inside where he thought they wouldn't get damaged – somewhere which certainly wasn't on the old egg-salad sandwich laying on the bottom.

Kurt would need to have another talk with his brother about hygiene. A descriptive one at that.

“Good,” Azimio said, clapping his hands together. “Now just get in the box so we can take ya to K's place.”

The box in question was positively huge – the top of it still open so that Kurt would be able to climb into it. Sighing tiredly when nobody was chivalrously enough to give him a steadying hand when climbing in – and why was he even surprised – Kurt sat down on the bottom. Crossing his legs so that he would be as comfortable as possible Kurt watched as they began to shut the box.

“You do have some air holes on that thing?” he asked them knowingly, once again taken aback by the jock's combined stupidity. “I'm not sure if Karofsky's into necrophilia, but if he isn't I doubt he'll appreciate the gesture.”

“Of course we have air holes!” one jock argued aggressively.

He could also hear one of the other's mumbling wonderously to another and asking what necrophilia meant, but Kurt chose to ignore that. Far too easy a target for his tastes.  
Kurt only crossed his arms, raising one eyebrow challengingly.

“Hey Lipoff,” Azimio demanded moments later, drawing Kurt's attention from the seething jock before him, “get some scissors or somethin'.”

Kurt only grinned victoriously at the irritated teen, amused when he just glared back even angrier than before.

*

A few hours later Kurt found himself still sitting in that damned box, left all alone in what he assumed to be the Karofsky living room (he could see specks of green – as if from a Christmas tree – through the small holes now covering the box). His hands were now bound together with tinsel behind his back – uncomfortable as hell – and with a bauble stuck in his mouth with more tinsel woven around his head to keep it in place. Those last little detail had come after he'd pointed out one too many flaws in their plan.

' _If I'm stuck in this box, how do you plan to transport me to Karofsky? I don't assume he lives in this locker room, does he?', 'You do know my father will go absolutely ballistic when he finds I'm not home and won't answer my phone, right_?' and ' _You do have a plan for how you'll get inside their house, right? I will not be left on the doorstep_!' being three of his honest questions. There had a few other's, but they didn't matter as much.

He hadn't been provided answers to any but one of his questions; that they'd taken his phone while at his house as well, sending a message claiming he was over at that black chick's house.

“ _I hope you didn't call her that in the message_ ,” Kurt had said, primly folding his still unbound hands in his lap. “ _He'll find it suspicious if I won't use her proper name_.”

“ _Of course Az sent the right name_ ,” one of the non-descriptive jocks had hollered merrily, “ _no way he could get the name of his crush wrong_!”

“ _I'll kill ya Hale_!” Azimio had bellowed back, but Kurt had only leant back and filed that fact away. It would be good fodder to keep for a later time.

And as for the answer to the other two questions Kurt figured that the first one involved a truck of some sort, because he'd been freezing cold the entire ride over, teeth clattering as he'd heard the wind rush past. And they'd must been in ownership of some key, because there had been minimal fretting once the cars stopped.

And after they'd left him alone he'd been bored out of his mind. There wasn't much to do while bound up and stuck in a box; mostly he'd just been mentally reviewing what he'd tell his father should he find out he'd been lied to about Kurt's whereabouts. He knew he couldn't rat out the jocks; for all of their wrongdoings that morning they'd done something essentially good for their friends – though using foul methods – and he couldn't in good conscience have his father report them to the police because of it, or worse.

He could get back at them himself for this later.

He'd also tried dozing off, though that had proved fruitless; without his full mobility he didn't trust himself to lean against the walls of his enclosure, afraid he'd topple over from centering his weight wrong. He'd tried breaking out of the present already, all that had served was pushing the box over on it's side and gaining a fair share of bruises – apparently the jocks had been clever enough to use a strong and resilient material for their 'package'.

There was a first time for everything he supposed.

So – as it seemed at the moment – he was in for a long wait.

*

The harsh steps ringing through the air shook Kurt out of his thoughts, his back straightening as he tried to listen where those steps were. Giving out a muffled shout Kurt heard whoever it was stepping up closer, so close that Kurt could hear the rustling from their clothes, and could see their body vaguely through the small holes littering the sides of his confining box.

“What the-?” he heard somebody mumble lowly as the box was jostled slightly, probably a card perched on top of something. He whined around the bauble in his mouth twice more as he waited, anxious to get out of this oh so tiresome box, but he didn't seem to be heard, as it took a while for whoever it was – most likely Dave, he admitted to himself – to begin opening the 'gift'.

Not even a minute later he was gazing up at his – former? – bully, watching as Dave blinked owlishly back at him, clearly not understanding what he was seeing. But honestly? Kurt wouldn't believe it either, the chances of finding someone bound up in a Christmas present while wearing a fairy costume...

Astronomical was probably the right word describing those odds.

Still, it wasn't necessary to stand there for quite as long as Karofsky was – Kurt was quickly getting impatient. Rolling his eyes he garbled angrily at the towering jock, feeling a small dribble of saliva rushing down his chin as he did – his chin was already disgusting at this point, his skin was going to hate him for this – as he saw Karofsky finally getting a grip of himself.

Being helped on his feet Kurt stretched his legs, wiggling his toes as he did, relishing in the slight freedom he'd been provided. Now, just to get the tinsel and bauble off and hopefully burnt along with his present clothing.

“-did this? Why? I-I don't get- Why are you-?” Kurt realized suddenly that Karofsky was talking, frantic words as he scrambled to help Kurt sit down on the the floor instead. When Kurt looked he could see that all the couches and arm chairs were ladled with presents, much like the rest of the room really. “Family's over,” Karofsky explained when he noticed Kurt looking. “They're out in Columbus today though, wanted to get some last minute shopping in.”

“Mwhyn drighnt aao oo?” Kurt asked, knowing just how stupid he sounded while doing so.

He watched Karofsky tilting his head confusedly before the light-bulb went off in his mind, then he hurried up on his knees and quick to tangle the bauble out of his mouth. “What was that?” the jock asked embarrassed, still leaning unusually close to Kurt.

“Why didn't you go?” Kurt asked again, wanting to rub his jaw from how sore he felt, somewhat irritated when his wrist chafed against one another as he moved to lift them. Karofsky would probably get to that soon, after he'd answered Kurt's question most likely.

“It's kinda complicated,” Karofsky admitted, looking down at the carpeted floor below him. “Long story short; came out to them last night, and dad thought it was a good idea to give them some room to get along with the idea. Sorta happy to not have to spend the entire day at a mall though...”

Understanding completely Kurt nodded, gazing down at the floor too, not sure how to respond. He'd pretty much been through the same thing the previous year, though his relatives – bar his dad, and his aunt Mildred – had mostly been in denial about his sexuality before he told them anything explicitly.

“Sorry,” Kurt offered eventually, feeling a bit bad for the hockey player.

“Not your fault,” Karofsky shrugged, slumping down on himself.

“Still. It has to be hard. You only _just_ came out to your dad and at school. Finn,” he explained when Karofsky looked at him confusedly. He wasn't supposed to know that apparently.

“Should've guessed Hudson wouldn't keep quiet,” he mumbled, leaning back on his heels.

Things got awkward between them after that, neither knowing how to continue. Kurt sat there thinking about the situation he'd somehow gotten himself into, absentmindedly pressing his wrists together as he did.

The faint movement in the corner of his eyes brought him out of his jumbled train of thought.

“Aren't you gonna unbind my hands?” Kurt asked the jock perplexed when he sat back down and crossed his legs.

“I wanna apologize first, you might leave before I get a chance to if I cut those strings,” he responded carefully, as if he was afraid Kurt would get mad.

“You don't have to Karofsky,” Kurt assured the teen vehemently, anxious to be released so he could rub his sore wrists. “Just untie me.”

“Look Hum- Kurt. I _need_ to apologize, okay?” Karofsky sighed, dragging a hand over his face. “I feel _horrible_ about what I did to you, so just _please_ let me tell you how sorry I am.”

Karofsky's eyes looked completely miserable as Kurt gazed into them, the golden brown so full of sorrow and guilt that Kurt couldn't deny him that wish. So he tilted his face down in a slow nod, agreeing to let Karofsky speak.

“Thank you,” the big jock sighed, untangling his legs and drawing his knees up against his chest. “I always felt different, okay? But I knew I shouldn't; around me everyone told me that being different was wrong, that those kind of people would burn in hell for their sins. For years I did everything I could to make sure nobody could tell just _how_ different I was.” He sighed deeply. “Then I began at McKinley, and there was this guy, all prim and proper and _perfect_. I couldn't stop staring. So, afraid that someone would notice I started pushing the guy around a little bit, started helping with tossing him in the dumpsters when I could... joined the guys when they decided to throw pee balloons at him. Things just escalated after that. I started thinking about this guy all the time, so I began throwing slushies at him. I would start smiling all the time when I heard his name, so I gave him a swirly.” 

Kurt felt his heart begin to pound as Karofsky took a deep breath before looking up at him. He surely couldn't be talking about _him_ , could he? Karofsky had kissed him, sure, but Kurt wasn't that special. He wasn't anywhere near extraordinary enough for someone to fall like that for him; he fell for other's, not the other way around.

Never the other way around.

“I'm so sorry for everything I did Kurt. I know I don't deserve it, especially not after I _threatened your life_ , but I hope that one day you might forgive me.”

Karofsky was crying. Hell, _Kurt_ was crying. Though it hadn't excused anything Karofsky had done to him, put him through, it sure explained the jock's actions.

“And now?” Kurt asked, voice curious – and kind of throaty – as he felt tears fall down his cheeks.

“Now... Now I just hope that you'll one day will forgive me. I can't ask for anything more than that.”

“But if you could,” Kurt pressed on, not sure why he was so anxious to hear the answer, “then what would you want?”

“Another kiss,” Karofsky admitted, not looking up once. “I'd like another chance to make it the way I've always dreamt of, not what happened back there.

Breath hitching, Kurt felt his heart thrum hotly. That... actually sounded sort of nice. How strange.

“So why don't you? Ask for it?” Kurt wondered, eyes falling shut on their own validation, fantasies running rampant in his mind.

“Kurt-?” Karofsky questioned.

“Please?” Kurt breathed, lifting his face and looking straight into the bigger boy's unbelieving eyes.

“Can- can I kiss you Kurt?” Karofsky asked with a slight stutter in his voice.

He nodded, a quiet 'yeah' falling from his lips.

Palm cupping his face Kurt felt himself shudder; his eyes fluttering shut when he felt Karo- no, Dave getting closer, their lips only a fraction of an inch apart. He could feel warm puffs of breath against his barely parted lips, taking one last shaking breath himself before they gently met, softly sighing into the kiss.

This, _this_ was what Kurt had imagined his first kiss to be. This... this was soft, sweet... _perfect_.

“Untie me? Please?” Kurt asked, straining his lips forward to catch the muscular boy into another kiss. Soon there were clumsy hands grappling around his lower arms, fingers searching. Kurt hissed when Dave accidentally pulled on the piece of tinsel wound around his wrists, but the silent 'I'm sorry' the jock provided with another mind-blowing kiss was enough to soothe his ache.

Hands falling apart Kurt didn't have one thought of leaving – not with how _loved_ and _cherished_ he felt in that moment; Dave Karofsky of all people kissing him so wonderfully, so astonishingly good. Instead he brought his hands up, tangling his fingers into that short hair and tugging lightly, wringing a low moan out of the tall jock that went straight to Kurt's gut. 

He never imagined how hotly he would react to such a simple sound; his blood already pulsing with heated arousal. He, who wasn't even able to watch porn – usually shuddering just thinking about such things – was because of a simple kiss already thrumming with thick want.

What was happening to him?

Climbing up into David's lap Kurt wove his arms around the jock's thick neck, molding their lips closer and gladly accepting the tongue seeking permission to tangle together with his own. Body moving on it's own Kurt found himself grinding himself down against Dave, small noises slipping out of his throat as he did.

Oh God, what was happening to him? And what could he do to always feel like this?

“Are you sure about this?” Dave questioned him, biting his lip when Kurt wouldn't stop moving. “We only just kissed, are you sure you want to-?”

“Yes. Not- not everything, but something. Definitely something,” Kurt rambled, hips moving without any indication of stopping. “Any- anything you want to do?”

He knew there was something when Dave blushed, quick to hide his face against Kurt's neck.

“What is it?” Kurt asked, curious and amused. He always thought _he_ would be the one blushing should he ever end up in a situation like this.

“I kinda always... thought about maybe... trying to... taste you, maybe?”

Mind suddenly blank Kurt couldn't do much than beg 'yes, yes, please' and 'oh holy- yes', his hands pawing over Dave's neck as he shook violently in the tall boy's hold. God did that sound amazing, just- mmpf!

“How do you want me?” he whispered against Dave's ear, feeling bold.

“Lying down, maybe?” Dave said tentatively.

“Sound good,” Kurt agreed. There wasn't much to do anyway when the few feet beside the tree were the only open spaces anyway.

Though he almost regretted that decision when the wings he was still wearing – what the hell, how could he forget he was wearing such despicable things?! – pressed painfully against his spine. It was hastily fixed though by sitting up and ripping them up, vowing to destroy them at a later time.

“How are you supposed to get these things off?” Karofsky asked, fingers searching for a way to get Kurt's leggins off.

Remembering that they had such a high waist that they came all the way up to his ribs Kurt told him to just rip them off. “It's not like I'll ever wear them again.”

He still gasped when Dave did as said, gripping the fabric over his hardened length and teared the garment apart, the strips of fabric falling all over and revealing his pelvis and thighs fully. Then he was soon grabbed; his base squeezed experimentally with a finger stroking over his sensitive balls.

“You sure I can do this?” Dave asked, fingers trailing up Kurt's length.

“Mhmm, God yes.”

He wasn't aware of Dave moving as he kept his eyes closed, but he sure felt it when those lips began to mouth over him. It wasn't like anything he'd ever dreamed of – it was far better than his wildest dreams.

Hot, wet, and that lovely tongue tracing his stretched skin; it was too amazing for words.

Kurt was gripping his own hair so hard he was afraid he would pull it out of their roots, yet there was no way he could let the pressure up, not when Dave was working him over like he was.

Sadly Dave didn't even get a chance to take even the tip of him into his mouth – Kurt was sure it would have been positively glorious – he was just so close to coming but he wanted it to last. He wanted them to come together.

“Just, can we do something else. Wanna come with you, 'kay?” he explained when forcing the bulky boy away from his heavily leaking length.

“Yeah,” Dave breathed, his mouth swollen red from all the kisses he'd pressed against Kurt's straining flesh. Kurt shivered when noticing his darkened eyes – the jock had obviously enjoyed that just as much as Kurt had. “Your turn,” Dave decided. “What do you want to do?”

“I think I want you over me, covering me completely. Would it be okay if I lay on my stomach, and you lay over me, and we just- moved?” he finished awkwardly, not able to explain his thoughts without blushing furiously.

“Uh-huh,” Dave swallowed harshly. “We can- we can do that.”

“So, I'll just-” Kurt stuttered, fingers pointing behind himself in the air.

Turning over Kurt lay down, most of his upper body now splayed out under the decorated tree. Glancing up momentarily Kurt stared wonderously at the spectacular sight before him.

Those were some gorgeous lights.

His focus wasn't kept by the lights for long though, the moment he felt Dave crawling over him he was lost, groaning. He adored how protected he felt like this; Dave's body covering him fully, his weight pressing Kurt down against the floor.

The irony was not lost on him that it was his – most definitely former – bully making him feel like this, the boy that had once caused him such terror now providing him such safety. Right then it didn't matter though, how could it when Dave felt so good against him?

He moaned when Dave slotted in between his cheeks. Kurt had not planned on that happening, but now that it did he sure didn't want it to stop – the friction against his cleft was positively glorious.

“Yes, Dave, please,” he gasped, hands scrabbling behind himself as he searched for Dave's bigger set. Luckily Dave took them, grasping them in his, and Kurt whimpered when he held them down against the floor beside his head.

“This okay?” Dave wondered, voice panting as he rocked against Kurt, his length pushing against Kurt's perky ass.

“Definitely,” Kurt moaned, tilting his hips up so that they could rock even harder against one another. This new position made Dave able to get his dick lodged even deeper between Kurt's cheeks, every stroke now dragging over Kurt's twitching hole, occasionally catching over it and making Kurt fucking whimper.

“Dave,” Kurt moaned, “I- I'm clo-close. Are you-?”

“Yes, yes, so close,” Dave nodded, hips bucking forward erratically. “Together?”

“Oh yes, together,” Kurt agreed, stomach seizing up just moments after, and he spilled against the carpet, coating it white as Dave shot across the swell of his ass and lower back.

He felt Dave mouthing over his shoulder as he came down from his spectacular high, and smiled at the sweet grin Dave gave him when he tilted his head to look at him.

*

“Do you regret this, now that it's over?” Dave asked him later, fingers tracing over his open palm, his eyes cast downwards.

“You know what? I don't think I do,” Kurt admitted, smiling where he lay cuddled up against Dave's chest, chin propped up on Dave's surprisingly toned pec. “You don't, do you?”

“No. Don't think I ever could,” Dave grinned.

“Good. Wouldn't want to need to beat you into perhaps doing this again sometime,” Kurt suggested dirtily.

“We'll do this again?” Dave asked him, eyes alight with such hope it almost made Kurt's heart ache.

“Don't think I could stop, actually.”


End file.
